


The Day Castiel Discovers his Penis

by evila_elf



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-05
Updated: 2012-10-05
Packaged: 2017-11-15 17:17:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evila_elf/pseuds/evila_elf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel decides to learn more about the vessel he occupies. NOT a crack!fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Day Castiel Discovers his Penis

Written May 11, 2010 for Day 11 of The Merry Month of Masturbation. Posted on Livejournal

 

Being in a human vessel felt...weird. And it wasn’t something that angels got to do every day. Not until lately, that was. Two months and he was still trying to get used to the confines of the small person he occupied. Like constraining the whole planet in something the size of a pea. 

As powerful as Castiel was, he felt slow. Stiff. A shell, in a shell, of his former self. But when he looked at Dean, he saw all the power and grace that he hoped to one day obtain, total control over his body. Give it time, he was told. But he hated it. Envied Dean.

The house was abandoned. Layers upon layers of dust and grime. It floated around him and he could feel his weak human’s eyes watering. He ignored the feeling. Climbed the stairs, casting about himself to make sure he was alone.

The large mirror was dirty, a crack cleaving it from corner to corner. But it would serve.

Castiel removed his trench coat, dropping it to the dusty floor, sending dust bunnies scurrying away from him, then he took off his suit jacket and pulled his tie off over his head. His fingers were clumsy as he undid the buttons to his shirt, resisting the urge to rip the blasted things off. Patience. Pull push out. Repeat. Shirt joined the other clothes on the floor.

He raised his arm, watching himself, this strange creature in front of him, mimic his movements. He rolled his shoulders, flexed his arms, watched his muscles move under his skin. The hair on top of his head felt soft, his skin on his chest and face smooth except for his permanent 5 o’clock shadow. His stomach was that of a family man. A businessman too busy to maintain a fit body. He could just make out his ribs if he stretched.

Next he undid his belt, fidgeting with it for a minute until he could figure out how to work the buckle, then popped the larger button and pulled down the zipper, dropping his pants, and almost fell over when he couldn’t kick them off over his shoes. He promptly toed those off, and removed his socks, starting to wonder if he would be able to remember where everything belonged when it came time to dress himself.

His feet fascinated him, and he wiggled his toes in the dust, balancing on the balls of his feet, then the tips, liking how the lack of shoes improved his movements. But as he reached down to feel them, he felt even softer skin, making the footwear a necessity. Hair covered his legs and Castiel felt up them, feeling the much more powerful muscles of his calves and thighs. Maybe his vessel wasn’t such a waste of space after all?

The last bit of clothing, his underwear, remained, so he removed the light cotton, stepped out of it, and got his first look at the human male sex. It hung underneath a patch of dark brittle curly hair. He carefully cupped it in his hand, standing closer to the mirror to get a better look at it and his testicles. Turning right. Left. Right again.

It felt soft, delicate, definitely an area to be aware of during a fight. He gave it a careful squeeze and felt a small rush of heat. Alarmed, he thought he had hurt himself, but the heat didn’t equal pain. Intrigued, he tried it again, this time feeling it move in his palm, as if it were alive. Growing and lengthening, enjoying the attention.

Humans, needing a mate, copulating, reproducing, circle of life and all that. One more puzzle piece coming together about this odd species that his God was so fond of. Fascinating creatures.

Castiel moved his hand down himself, the skin even more tender, but less fragile feeling now, blood filling it and making it hard. Blood. The life force. Such a powerful substance in all beings, human and demon alike. 

Touching himself. It felt good. A pleasure he had yet to experience in this vessel. On this planet. He awkwardly wrapped his fingers around himself, covering as much of his sex as he could. It made him feel weak, yet he couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop. He stroked himself, the motion almost feeling familiar. In this weakened state, was he connecting just a little bit with his vessel? Could Jimmy feel this too?

His palm caught a little leaking moisture, surprising him, but he didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop now even if he wanted to. Faster and faster, the pleasure becoming too much. An explosion of bright colors behind his eyes, blinding him and bringing him to his knees, panting, sweat dotting his skin and seed joining the dust. He closed his eyes, wondering if the intense feeling meant that he was being ripped from his vessel and cast back into heaven. But when he opened his eyes, he was alone, staring at his image in the mirror, looking weak and scared in the face of one of man’s pleasures.


End file.
